


What Death Should Be

by shadowofrazia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Final Battle, Gen, No Dialogue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-23 12:49:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2548061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowofrazia/pseuds/shadowofrazia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Death should be the end to his pain, but as Severus dies, all he can remember is Lily and her brilliant green eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Death Should Be

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Celestlyn for her wonderful (and quick!) betaing! This was written for [this prompt](http://hp-silencio.livejournal.com/14737.html?thread=327569#t327569) over at hp-silencio for drarryxlover.

This is not what death should be.  
  
Death is supposed to be peaceful, an end to all the pain.  
  
Severus can feel the snake’s venom coursing through his veins, a searing flame that spreads and intensifies with every beat of his weakening heart. He can feel the blood that seeps through his robes, cool and uncomfortable as it sticks to his feverish skin. He hates Dumbledore for leading him to this, but not nearly as much as he hates himself for following.  
  
This is not peace; this is not the end, and Severus is truly afraid.  
  
And then Harry is there with Lily’s green, green eyes, and it’s all Severus can do not to cry out her name, to plead for forgiveness, as those eyes remind him of the bad decisions he’s made and the people he’s wronged.  
  
He remembers those eyes,  _her_  eyes, young and full of wonder at what magic could do--at what  _she_  could do. He remembers her looking at him, full of a caring and understanding that he hasn’t seen since.  
  
Severus’ limbs jerk, tensing and relaxing as the venom turns his nerves to ash. He knows he will be dead soon, but as the memories fight their way through the walls he’d forced them behind so many years ago, death is but a small comfort.  
  
He can hear her laughter; can remember the sound of his name on her lips. With every tremor and every weakening heartbeat, Severus can see her smile and the way her hair gleamed in the summer sun. He feels her hand in his and the tiny spark of magic she was so afraid to accept.  
  
As if they’ve broken through a dam, the memories come faster and faster, flooding Severus’ mind with every moment of his miserable life until he has to fight against the unrelenting current for the images of Lily. And then he’s pulled under, drowning in his memories of her.  
  
There are small things now, tiny things he’d thought he’d forgotten years ago. He sees her handwriting, small and slanted where it fills a roll of parchment; the flowers she sometimes wove into her hair, like the girls in the Muggle magazines; and those stupid,  _stupid_  circular sunglasses she always insisted were cool. He feels her hair against his skin as she wrapped her arms around him in a reassuring hug. He remembers the love he’d felt every moment they were together.  
  
Everything was perfect as long as they had each other. As long as they had each other, they were safe.  
  
Until they weren’t.  
  
He did not plan to call her  _Mudblood_. He did not plan to see the hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she turned away, too angry to remember how much he needed her…how much they needed each other.  
  
He did not plan to push her further and further away, or to cloak himself in layers of hatred and darkness as he exchanged the childish feelings of love and comfort for the rush that came from knowing that, for one moment, he was in control. He was the one who chose who was weak. He was the one with power.  
  
He made them hurt. He made them feel the pain he’d felt. He decided lived and who died.  
  
But even as he relished that power and used his hatred to distance himself from the pain of losing the one he loved to the one he loathed, Severus did not plan to see those green eyes, empty and unblinking as they stared up at him from where her body lay on the floor. He never planned to see her die.  
  
He will never forget how it felt to hold her still-warm body to his chest; how it felt like his lungs were being crushed as he realised he would never again see her smile, or the mischievous glint in her eye. He’d never again see the sun against that auburn hair, or hear her voice say his name.  
  
He remembers how it felt--how it  _feels_ \--to know that her blood was entirely on his hands.  
  
And now, here he is, pain surging through his grief and his memories. He knows this is nearly the end. He knows they will call him coward. They will call him traitor. He knows no one will know of the things he’s sacrificed; no one will know why.  
  
In that moment, there are so many things he wishes he could say. He wants to apologise, wants to beg for forgiveness he knows he will never deserve. But if there’s one thing Severus should be called, it is selfish, and in the end, all he can manage is one final, breathless plea.  
  
He needs to see, just one last time.  
  
The pain is fading and the memories are gone, trapped in a vial that he will never hold. Something like anguish tears at him with the thought that he’ll never see his Lily again, and for a moment he wishes he could take them back, hide the memories someplace no one will ever be able to see.  
  
But those memories don’t belong to him, not anymore. Now, they are Harry’s to own and experience. Severus just hopes Harry will understand that he was good, in his own way. He hopes Harry will be able to forgive him for handing him over to his death, for being the one who made all this horror necessary.  
  
He hopes that Harry knows how sorry he is, that he would apologise if only he had the strength…if only he had the courage.  
  
Severus’ vision begins to blur around the edges, but he can see those eyes--young and frightened, but entirely hers. Despite the smell of death permeating the suffocating summer air, and despite the chill closing in around him like an oversized cloak, he smells flowers on a summer breeze. He feels the prickle of grass against his skin, the warmth of the sun upon his face, and her hand gripping tightly to his as they grasp at forever in the clouds, and he knows this is the end.  
  
Severus’ eyes drift closed and when he takes his final, shaking breath, he swears he hears Lily’s sweet, joyful laughter in his ears.

 


End file.
